a plotted starter for @legacyexplorer !
“ ...and I’m tellin’ you, the genetic code is a match--! ... Yes, I’m aware that it can be altered--! Will you stop interruptin’ me? I’m tryna tell you that according to all the readings, this kid’s a genetic match for Charles Archer! YES, I’m sure it’s that Charles Archer! ... Yeah. Yeah, alright. Security team’s still posted outside the medbay, so stop your cluckin’. Go... shit, call the brass. Tell ‘em we got a situation. Yeah. McCoy out. ”
Scrubbing a hand down his face, Len half-turns, casting a last, disdainful glare at the readings on his monitor. They haven’t changed since he ran the damn tests, and attempting to glower them into submission hasn’t had any effect. It doesn’t make any damn sense--! Every cadet knew Charlie Archer’s story; the Buran, the Klingons, the sacrifice that poor kid had made... to say that seeing one of the ‘Fleet’s legends sitting in his medbay is surreal is really doing the abject bizarreness of the entire situation a disservice.
Christine glances up from her PADD as he emerges from his office, nods in Charlie’s direction. The kid looks thoroughly uncomfortable and Len can’t say he blames him; he wouldn’t want anyone gawking at him either. A sigh rattles its way out of him and he approaches the biobed the kid’s parked on cautiously. “How you holdin’ up?”